


A Very Oglaf Christmas

by kitsunealyc



Category: Oglaf
Genre: F/F, F/M, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunealyc/pseuds/kitsunealyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Snow Queen heads out in a sleigh full of gifts to spread a little holiday cheer, Oglaf-style... and perhaps to find some for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fire is so Delightful?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrina_il (marina)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/gifts), [byzantienne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byzantienne/gifts).



> Many thanks to the excellent Russian_Blue for beta-reading.

"You didn't have to come, you know." The Snow Queen brushed a dusting of snow off a chair carved from ice. Abby – her abominable snowman butler – had been practicing. He was getting quite good at carving all sorts of things out of ice.

The Mistress looked down at the seat. Back up at the Snow Queen. Back down at the seat. One high-arched brow arched a little higher over permanently half-lidded eyes. "Shut up and turn on the damn heat. My nipples could cut glass in here."

The Snow Queen didn't have any heat to turn on. The Mistress knew this, but every year she asked, and every year it left the Snow Queen feeling like she was a terrible host. A bad sister. Oh, they weren't sisters in the usual sense, but the elemental avatars formed their own kind of a family, and the Snow Queen and the Mistress of Flame had always been...

Not close. Wrong term.

Complementary.

But it still didn't explain why once a year, on the longest night, when the world was at its coldest and the Mistress should have been cozied up in a furnace of orgiastic bodies, instead she came to visit the Snow Queen. Maybe it was manners, since the Snow Queen made a similar trek each year at midsummer?

No. Couldn't be. Manners weren't something the Mistress did herself. She only demanded them from others, and even then only for her own amusement. So many delightfully awful things could happen to a person while they were bent over.

"I could have my abominable snowman make tea. One of my suitors taught him. He's been practicing."

"Sweet Beelzebub, how is it you haven't killed yourself out of boredom?" The Mistress picked up a snow globe, gave it a desultory shake. Nothing happened, because it was frozen through. She put it back down and shivered.

"We can't die?"

"Lack of imagination. If my life were this boring, I'd figure out a way."

The Snow Queen chewed on her lower lip, watching her sister-avatar pace about the boudoir. The Mistress was melting a path into the polished ice floor that would take days to fix.

It was almost as vexing as the Mistress' evaluation of the excitement of her life. "I do have visitors, you know. Quite often. Why only a few weeks ago, a lovely young man came looking for his parents. We had a delightful visit—"

"Did you fuck?"

"What?"

"Fuck. You know, did you screw, pork, do the nasty, make the beast with all the backs. Did he poke you?"

"We-ell.... in a manner of speaking."

"Kill yourself. Seriously."

"I quite enjoy my life—"

"Reaaally?" the Mistress drawled. She lounged back on the Snow Queen's bed, singeing the furs and bedding. She trailed icemelt up the inside of her thigh. It dissipated in a little hiss of steam. "Is that why spring comes later and later every year? Because you're _enjoying_ yourself?"

The snow queen flushed. Little droplets of thaw beaded her brow. She looked away from the lithe form sprawled out on her bed. The Mistress was going to melt the bed frame if she kept doing that.

"That's an entirely different—"

"I swear, if I hadn't sent someone to take care of it, we might have missed summer entirely last year."

The Snow Queen's gaze snapped back to the Mistress. She put her hand over her belly to control the flutters. "You... sent someone?"

"Of course. Never trust a local hero to do the job of a professional." The Mistress' fingers slid into the little scrap of red fabric that covered her pussy. And out, and back in.

The Snow Queen licked her lips. Be cool. Be casual. "W-who?"

The Mistress trailed her fingers up her belly. Tasted her own wetness. Smiled. "Oh, just some mercenary. Charged me an arm and a leg – someone else's, of course – but talent's always worth it."

She chuckled and rose. Laid a hand over the Snow Queen's cheek. Such a touch should have scorched the Snow Queen as much as it froze the Mistress, but her cheeks were so warm that the Mistress' hand felt almost cool in comparison.

Her fingers smelled of cinnamon.

"Well, it's been a visit. See you in six." The Mistress patted her cheek and sauntered toward the cavern entrance.

"Wait!" The Snow Queen lunged after her, stopped short of pulling her back by that mass of flame hair. "The mercenary... do you know where she is now?"

"Why should I know that? Or care? Somewhere off in Xoa, I imagine. Sandoval was the one who recommended her."

"Xoa." The Snow Queen barely noticed the Mistress' departure, not even to get upset when she melted Abby's snowman orgy on the way out.

 _Xoa._

"Abby! Ready my sleigh! We're going to Xoa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: It's an Alabama 3 cautionary tale - "Ain't Goin' to Xoa": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hhzAgAzSr4


	2. Lovely Weather for a Sleigh Ride Together

The Snow Queen gave the packed sleigh a dubious look, then transferred that dubious look to Abby.

"Are you sure we need all of this?"

Abby nodded his shaggy head so hard that his eyes wobbled in their sockets. "Yes, my Lady. I've made a careful study of the ways of the outside world, and it is customary – no, necessary – to bring gifts when you go visiting. Since we don't know who we might meet on our travels, I've packed a little bit of everything."

"Oh. Well, then. I suppose you know best." She hugged him when he lifted her up to her seat. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Yes, well… well…" Abby huffed as he climbed up to the driving platform and took hold of the reins. He flicked them, and the snow-white reindeer skipped down the hill, pulling a sleigh piled high with glittering gifts, all carved from ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: Watch out for the Grandma crossing.


	3. Baby, It's Cold Outside

It was just part of the Snow Queen's nature that she brought winter with her wherever she went. That was fine for the north, where all was covered in snow, but the further south she and Abby traveled, the more she tried to keep it localized to the road they were using.

Especially since everyone was so scantily clad.

"Pardon me," she said, hailing two young women who had taken ‘scantily-clad' to the extreme. There was barely a scrap of clothing between them. "Could you tell me if this is the proper road to Xoa?"

The two girls, a slender brunette and a curvy blonde, pressed closer to each other, shivering as the sleigh stopped beside them.

"Oh, stranger, do not come closer, do not pause, or you may end up sharing our curse," moaned the brunette. The blonde slid behind her, squeezing and kneading warmth back into her friend's breasts.

"Curse?" asked the Snow Queen.

"We suffer under a terrible curse," said the blonde, pinching her friend's nipples.

The brunette gasped and arched back. "We're sluts."

"So I see." The Snow Queen leaned further over the side of her sleigh so she could see better.

"It's catching," the brunette continued, reaching behind her. Whatever she did made the blonde jerk and squeak and flush a pretty pink.

The blonde released one breast to grab the brunette's jaw and pull her head back for a deep, hungry kiss.

Definitely warmer here in the south. The Snow Queen considered becoming a little more scantily-clad herself. "It doesn't seem to be that bad, as curses go," she said, a little breathlessly since she was busy admiring the curve of the brunette's neck down to the upthrust of her breasts and the perk of her dusky nipples.

The blonde released the kiss, but the brunette remained arched back as her friend nibbled kisses down her neck.

"If you can't help us, then you should flee before you're forced to join us," the blonde said over the pale curve of her friend's shoulder.

Joining didn't seem like such a bad idea, but the Snow Queen glanced down the road and recalled her own quest.

"Perhaps I can help." She reached back into the pile of gifts, searching for something in particular. Surely Abby would have carved some.

Aha! She pulled out her find and tossed it down.

Both girls had paused their warming activities while the Snow Queen searched. The brunette caught the gift. "What's this?" she asked, touching the tip of the frosty length.

"Strap-on. Sluts perform for the voyeuristic pleasure of men. Lesbians do it for themselves and each other."

"Ooh," said the brunette. The leather-and-wool padded harness jingled in her hands as she turned it over.

"I've always wanted to be a lesbian," whispered the blonde, sliding a finger down the slick ice. "Ooh! Pre-lubed!"

At a nod from the Snow Queen, Abby urged the reindeer on their way.

"You know they can be lesbians without that thing, right?" Abby whispered.

"It's a starter penis. By the time it melts, they'll be fine on their own." The Snow Queen snuggled back into the cushions and wished for a lesbian of her own.

In the fading distance, the former sluts tussled in the snow over who got to use the Snow Queen's gift first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: For any potentially offended lesbians, please keep in mind: this is just a work of friction.


	4. Come, They Told Me - Barumpa-dum-dum

"But it's a field," The Snow Queen said, looking out on the sheep pasture.

"Yup," said the farmer who'd been nice enough to point out the field in question.

"It's not even a very big field."

"Nope."

She glanced over at him, with his hat pulled low over his eyes and a piece of hay dangling from his lips. Worn work shirt and dust-covered bib-and-braces. He could give the avatar of honesty a run for her money. She might even have to cheat to win.

"I expected Xoa to be… bigger. It has an ambassador, you know."

"Yup. Poncy fella. Pointy ears. Married a bale of alfalfa and claimed ownership over the whole field. He don’t give us trouble if we graze the sheep, so everyone's happy."

She looked back out over the bucolic vista. This was the nation that other nations trembled in fear over? "So I suppose that means you don't have much in the way of mercenaries."

"Nope."

Her shoulders sagged. She started to turn away, but then something caught her eye.

"Did that shepherd boy just write 'Hello, Pretty Lady' in the air with his semen?"

The farmer shifted his piece of hay to the opposite corner of his mouth so he could spit away from her - _p-tang._

"Yup."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: I had to get the titular character in there somehow. Heh. Titular.


	5. Gift of the Magi

"Turkish Delight? No, I don't think I have any of that."

The boy on the roadside looked so hopeful that the Snow Queen pretended to look anyway. After poking through the pile of gifts, she held up her hands – empty – to demonstrate her lack of success. "Nope. No Turkish Delight."

They were hopelessly lost, somewhere on a winter-slick road in the middle of a conifer forest. When she'd finally convinced Abby to stop for directions, they ended up talking to a boy who sounded more lost than they were.

Because really, who put a lamppost in the middle of nowhere?

"You don't want Turkish Delight anyway, do you?" the Snow Queen asked when the boy's shoulders sagged and he would have trudged along his way. "It's a rubbish candy. Here, take this instead."

She tossed down a bundle from the store of gifts.

"What's this? Looks like a torch." The boy flicked it on and off. No light appeared, but it vibrated and pulsed with a little whirring noise each time he flicked it on.

"I call it a twat-torch," Abby said.

"There, you see?" the Snow Queen beamed. Who wouldn't be impressed, that such a complex mechanism could be carved from ice and snow. " Much better than Turkish Delight."

The boy nodded and waved his new toy as the Snow Queen's sleigh drove off through the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: I wonder if Edmund has ever licked a lamppost.


	6. Later on, We'll Conspire

"And these are the dungeons, where she keeps her most treasured of treasures," said Sandoval, the Xoan Ambassador, sweeping his arms in an expansive gesture.

"Don't you mean prisoners?" the Snow Queen asked, cringing at the heat and the screams and the miasma of sexual despair.

"Isn't that what I said?" Sandoval ushered her along a corridor, past rooms filled with moaning bodies strapped to crosses, trestles, and just about every other configuration of wood you could nail together. The Snow Queen shied back from the blast of heat from one room, caught a glimpse of the flame-glowing occupants. Succubae, of course, and in desperate need of oiling.

It had been a mistake, stopping to visit her sister-avatar. The Mistress wasn't even at home. Off on some tour of conquest, Sandoval had said, before insisting on giving the Snow Queen a tour of her own.

She gone along, hoping to ask him about mercenaries, but every time she started to introduce the subject, he fled off along another tangent.

She hitched her bag of gifts over her shoulder. It was getting heavy, and taking most of her magic to keep the ice frozen in this place of flame and heat. "So, as I was saying, there was a mercenary. A woman—"

"Ah, and here is the greatest treasure of all. My airy pavlova, my puffy lolly-cake, my cream-filled lamington, my vegemite sandwich." Sandoval led her into a crate-filled storeroom. A handsome young man was laid out on a wooden pallet, the sigil of the Mistress burned onto one side of his chest, the pucker of a healed arrow wound scarring the other. He was clothed only in candle stubs and melted wax.

Sandoval sniffled, lit one of the candles, and fell to his knees before the sleeping man. "I come every day to worship and mourn," he said, eyes wide and round, lips quivering

From the layer of dust that swirled on the floor and covered the young man's body, the Snow Queen rather doubted that.

"Who is he?"

"Her apprentice. He lasted so long, longer than any of the others. And he was more fun, too." Sniffle. Sob.

"He's still pure." It was a wonder that he'd managed to retain his virginity in the Mistress' fortress, though it explained the magical sleep. It was almost as hard to kill a virgin as it was to kill an avatar.

"And ever shall be! Oh, cruel world, to take him from us!" Sandoval laid his head on the boy's wax-dribbled chest and beat it hard enough to make the entire body jerk.

"Here now." The Snow Queen pulled the ambassador away before he could break anything. She blew out the candle. "It's easy enough to wake him. Just remove that which protects him."

Sandoval gasped, lips parted, eyes wide, hands fluttering in horror. He did horror very well. "You mean his virginity? Unthinkable! How can I give him life by removing that which gives his life value. He'd never forgive me."

The Snow Queen rather doubted that. More likely that the Mistress would never forgive anyone who woke the apprentice she'd condemned to this dusty storeroom and an eternity of virginal repose.

Sandoval clapped his hands. "Now, let me show you the—"

"A moment." The Snow Queen set her bag down. She didn't need anything in there for his gift. Her fingers traveled up the apprentice's chest to that starburst scar. She sent a lick of frost through it, freezing the star into a snowflake. A shiver ran through the young man's body. His skin dimpled with gooseflesh, and his next breath came out clouded with cold.

The Snow Queen peeled away the snowflake scar. Like his purity, its magic was enough to withstand the heat of this place. She pressed it into the boy's hand, hiding the evidence of her meddling.

"What did you just do?" Sandoval asked, peering over her shoulder as if to ensure she hadn't somehow taken away the boy's precious virginity in order to wake him.

She picked up her bag. "I gave him a gift for when he wakes."

"What sort of gift?"

"A second chance."

"Hold on." Sandoval planted himself in front of her, fists on his hips. She jerked back. Maybe his dedication to the apprentice wasn't merely pretense. "Gifts? You're giving out gifts, and none for me?"

"Oh!" She should have known better. Sandoval had probably never even flirted with altruism.

Poor Tru. Nobody ever had time for her.

The Snow Queen reached into her sack and pulled out the first thing that came to hand. She winced as she handed Sandoval a snow cone.

"Oooh!" He took it, not seeming to mind that it was a paltry gift. "My cold mistress, my frigid coquette." The snow cone frosted over as he breathed on it. His lips left little kiss tracks across the frost. "You just want some warming up, don't you?"

Sandoval's free hand went to the laces on his breeches. The Snow Queen sidled around him as he whispered to the snow cone all the naughty things he was going to do to it.

"I'll just… leave you two alone, then," she said, and beat a hasty retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: The apprentice is just a piece of meat to him. Now bring him his figgy-pudding.


	7. Baby, It's Cold Inside

"And now, 'm the only one left. Thas it. Jus me. An' all we wanted was a version. A _version._ Izzat too mush to ashk?"

The Snow Queen shook her head, because that seemed to be the appropriate response. "A version of what?" she asked, trying to keep up with her companion's story.

"A _vir – gin,_ " the young lady enunciated, sloshing ice vodka – the Snow Queen's gift – over the side of her glass. Her full lips rounded in an 'O'.

"Oopsh." She sucked vodka off her hand. There wasn't much left in the bottle. Most of it had been drunk or sloshed, and most of that by the young lady, though Abby had collapsed snoring in a snow drift after half a shot.

"Why did you need a virgin?" the Snow Queen asked, propping the girl upright when she would have slumped across her lap.

"Long story." The woman waved this away, as if she weren't already in the middle of a long story. "The point ish… the _point_ ish…" She ran a tongue over very pointed canines, as if that would remind her what the point was.

It seemed to work. "The point _is,_ it's all _his_ fault." She downed the rest of her vodka and smashed the ice shot glass against the rail of the sleigh.

"Who?"

"Him! The schlut. I swear, if I ever find him… And now ish all gone. Even the town." The girl gestured to the empty plain around them. She grabbed the Snow Queen by her shoulders and shook her once, their noses almost touching. "How do you lose a town?"

The Snow Queen shook her head, her nose bumping the other girl's. "I'm sure I don't know."

She was more curious why the chill in her flesh didn't seem to bother her companion. The other girl's hands slid down her arms to settle at her waist, and her head dipped. A breath as warm as blood skittered across the Snow Queen's bosom.

"You know, I'm looking for someone myself," she said, trying to remind herself of her quest.

"The schlut?" The girl's tongue slid along the Snow Queen's collarbone.

"Er… no. A mercenary."

"You should talk to Vanka. She knows everyone." The girl's mouth fastened onto the Snow Queen's neck. She sucked once. Twice. The Snow Queen whimpered and arched back, eyes sliding closed.

And then came two sharp pricks as the girl bit down.

"AAAH! Brain freeze! _Brain Freeze!_ " The girl pushed away from the Snow Queen, heel of her hand pressed to the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched shut as she grimaced in pain. She kicked the back of the driver's box.

The Snow Queen sat up and adjusted her top, trying not to sniffle at the rejection. She didn't mean to hurt other people, and this girl had seemed able to handle the cold better than most.

But not enough. Only one person had ever walked away from the Snow Queen unscathed.

"Vanka, you said? Where can I find her?"

"Just go into any town and put it about that you've got that sack full of ice. Vanka will find you." The girl climbed out of the carriage, still pinching her brow. She stumbled a few feet through the snow until she tripped over Abby's form.

"You want help with him?"

"Yes, please." Before the Snow Queen could jump down, the slender girl lifted the huge, furry form over her head. She tossed him in the back of the sleigh next to the bag of gifts.

The Snow Queen climbed into the driver's box and took up the reins, but hesitated before urging the reindeer on their way. "I believe I might know where you can find what you're looking for."

"The slut?"

"Er, no. I don't know any sluts." By now, they were surely lesbians. "But I do know where you can find a virgin. A lovely young man whom I'm quite certain would be glad to give it up for a good cause." Like being woken up from a cursed sleep.

The young woman licked her lips. "Sounds promising. Tell me where to find him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: I guess you could call it frostbite?


	8. Blue Christmas

The Snow Queen waited for Vanka in the taproom of an inn. That was how these things were done, she'd been told. Leave her bag of gifts upstairs, and wait down below.

She sat in the corner furthest from the fire. The fishermen and farmers pulled their coats tighter around them and complained about the bitter weather. They gave her a wide berth, but she could still overhear their tales of wonders and monsters: of wild sea beauties and cunning flat-bears, of brothels full of shapeshifters, and wish-granting fish.

Perhaps the Mistress had been right. Even the common folk seemed to live more interesting lives than the Snow Queen.

The red sack landed on her table with a tinkle of breaking ice. "They told me you had enough ice upstairs to choke a polar bear," said a buxom young woman in a striped bandana and a low-cut tunic. She flipped the chair across from the Snow Queen and sat on it backwards. The scoop of the chair's back formed a lovely shelf for her breasts. "You know when people say 'ice', they don't usually mean… _ice._ "

The Snow Queen blinked. It was hard _not_ to look at the breasts on such prominent display. "What else would they mean?"

The woman – Vanka, she assumed – raised a brow. Possibly, she raised both, but the bandana hid the other from view. "All right, Snow-angel. I don't usually give freebies, but you're too adorable for words, and I'm in a giving mood today. What did you want?"

The Snow Queen tracked Vanka's finger as it ran down the edge of her vest. She licked her lips. Perhaps she could…

No. She'd learned her lesson. There was only one person she wanted now. "I'm looking for a mercenary woman. Long dark hair, athletic. Very… er… competent."

Vanka stopped tugging her vest aside. Laughed. "Oh, Tasty-freeze. Are you ever in over your head. Yeah, I know her. She was fun. The look on her face…" she trailed off with a chuckle and a smug little grin.

The Snow Queen leaned forward, gripping the table to keep from grabbing the woman across from her. "You know her? You know where to find her?"

Vanka stopped grinning. "Reality-check, Icy-hot. She's a mercenary. You don't find her unless she wants to be found. If you haven't found her, maybe it's because she doesn't want to be found. By you. So here's the question: how long have you been looking for her?"

The Snow Queen bit her lip so it wouldn't wibble. "A long time."

Vanka spread her arms. "There you are, then."

There she was. The mercenary… didn't want to be found. By her.

Not even biting her lip could keep it from wibbling. The Snow Queen rose, her body growing as heavy and cold as a glacier. Outside, the icicles hanging off the eaves shattered and fell at the rush of cold that accompanied the Snow Queen's breaking heart.

She had to get out of here before she froze all these nice farmers to death.

"Hey, Miss Nippy. You forgot your bag of ice."

The Snow Queen turned. "I don't need it anymore. You can have the rest."

"What am I going to do with a bunch of frozen sex toys?"

Not sex toys any longer. They'd shattered with her heart. "Open the bag."

Vanka opened the bag wide enough for the firelight to shine off the broken gifts inside. Rainbows danced across her face, and she had to squint against the sparkle, like diamonds.

"Sweet frozen lemonpops." Suspicion crept into that look of wonder. Her eyes flicked up to meet the Snow Queen's. "Won't they melt?"

"Not before springtime." Assuming there ever was another spring. The Snow Queen trudged out of the inn. It was time to go home and wait and hope that somehow, her winter would come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: We talked to the diamonds. They're tired of being in the friend-zone.


	9. All I Want for Christmas Is You

Abby was quiet the long drive home. The Snow Queen was as well, which left them in the silence of winter: the strange crunch of sleigh tracks on snow, the muffled _whump_ of branches dumping their icy payloads, the eerie quiet of a world covered in a shroud, with no hope of reawakening in sight.

She left Abby to tend to the reindeer and store the sleigh, and trudged back into her boudoir with head lowered and shoulders slumped.

"About time you got here. I was ready to give up and go looking for you."

The Snow Queen's head lifted at that familiar drawl.

The mercenary lounged on the Snow Queen's bed, all lean muscles and sharp angles. She was naked, save for a sprig of mistletoe resting on her belly.

"You… aren't frozen." The Snow Queen cringed the moment she spoke. Of all the greetings she could have given, that wasn't the smoothest.

The mercenary didn't seem to mind. She held up a bottle of blown glass. "Ran into a very interesting former client while she was out conquering a few more kingdoms. She gave me this." The mercenary dribbled the amber contents of the bottle down her torso. She set it aside and spread the oily substance over her belly. It smelled like cinnamon.

"What is it?"

The Mercenary shrugged. Her skin shone with the rich texture of silk. "Dunno, don't want to. But it helps keep the cold at bay." She trailed oil-slick fingers up her body, licked them clean. Her lips glistened with the oil. "Much better than a padded fur suit, wouldn't you say? Want to give it a go?"

Not waiting for an answer, the mercenary lunged for the Snow Queen, grabbing her hips and tugging her to the edge of the bed.

"Yes," The Snow Queen sighed as the mercenary pushed aside her skirt.

"Yes," she squeaked as a cinnamon-warm fingers parted her lips and a cinnamon-warm tongue swirled around her clit – and didn't freeze with the contact.

She squealed and giggled as the mercenary toppled her onto the bed.

 _Yes!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: No, you're supposed to kiss _under_ it.


	10. Epilogue: Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire

Getting into the Mistress' citadel had been easy. Sneaking past the guards, the sycophants, and the hooded, hissing acolytes down in the dungeons had been cake. Finding the specific storeroom that the nice lady in the sled had described – that was a bitch.

But she found it. Pushed her way past dusty boxes and musty bags and finally found…

"You!"

The Slut!

She tensed and spun about, ready for another trap, but she was alone save for the howls and cries and moans from the other parts of the dungeon.

Alone. And the slut just lying there for her to take vengeance on.

Lying there, looking… just as healthy as before, his skin mottled with dribbled wax and his cock hard and ready.

Hm.

Well… maybe some fun first, and vengeance afterwards.

With a grin and a growl, she climbed atop him, slid onto him. Groaned and shut her eyes and leaned back to ride him.

He groaned, too. Or perhaps she imagined it.

And then he shifted. She fell forward, grabbed for his wax-covered chest… and encountered something cold and powdery. Her eyes flew open. She straddled a man-shaped snowdrift that was quickly turning to slush in the heat of the Mistress' citadel.

" _FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK!!!_ "

And somewhere far to the north, Ivan the Apprentice woke to find himself naked, covered in wax, with a raging hard-on, and no idea where he was.

"My life," he muttered, getting to his feet.

At least it was warm, wherever he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouseover text: Christmas came early this year. Premature Annunciation.


End file.
